


undark

by takaraikarin



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Sobriety Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takaraikarin/pseuds/takaraikarin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometime in the summer of 2005, Gerard had woken up from another fitful sleep in fugitive hours, and realized that he’s going blind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	undark

**Author's Note:**

> **| _'undark_ ' | Bob/Gerard | MCR fic | 948 words | PG | Mild angst | Gerard sobriety fic |**  
> For the [mar 03 07](http://community.livejournal.com/we_are_cities/46027.html) prompt in [](http://we-are-cities.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://we-are-cities.livejournal.com/)**we_are_cities**
> 
> For [](http://acidicpixels.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://acidicpixels.livejournal.com/)**acidicpixels** and her prompt, ‘this monochrome world’. Because she asked for one.

Sometime in the summer of 2005, Gerard had woken up from another fitful sleep in fugitive hours, and realized that he’s going blind. That must be what was happening, since everywhere his eyes landed everything was paling. everything was dull. everything was grey.

People tip-toe around him retching in toilets, cities blurred pass him along as he shivered in his bunks, and not even in the way they used to be. They used to zoom pass him in blinding lights, like supernovas. They used to make Gerard wanted to join them. He’d always wanted to go in a blast. It’d be even cooler if they’re meteoric ones.

But he digressed.

The point was that bandmates, sunshine, crowd’s ebullience that used to feed into his veins, they all seemed to be so far away from him and when they do get close, they were colored in drab. Even Mikey’s eyes seemed to be less blue. Looking at him, his eyes painted in worry made Gerard wanted to curl back in his bunk and maybe cry a little. Just a bit.

He tried not to think of how much the drugs would help, would paint everything in garish unnatural colors, would swash away the acidic aftertaste of vomit in his throat. Clean is better. Really.

 

Some night in the summer of 2005 Gerard stumbled out of his bunk. His mind made a clear mental track towards the bathroom only to stumble into something solid that turned out to be a sleepy Bob. It was the first human contact he’d had in days, and for some reason instead of lurching forward his body swayed unsteadily backward inside the rumbling bus and Bob’s hands was suddenly on him, steadying him. All of the sudden movement was making Gerard a bit lightheaded. Bob’s hand on him helped stopped his lurch, though.

‘Sorry,’ Gerard mumbled through his parched mouth. When he looked up at Bob’s face, he honestly thought maybe he’s completely lost his mind this time.

Bob’s got a barest of a smile on his lips and a shrug on his shoulders, and the sleepy eyes that held Gerard’s gaze was sky blue.

It took a while for his sleep-addled brain to register, but when it does, the flecks of blue amidst all the greyness was already out of his sight, Bob’s back to him as he walked towards the bathroom door. Gerard stood there blinking away light reflex, telling himself he’s probably dreaming.

 

In retrospect maybe Gerard should’ve thought of kind of checking in on Bob, to see if he would feel as unreal as the rest of the world. Mostly because he never was. He could be higher than fucking Eiffel Tower, under the influence of too much shit he couldn’t even remember, but he would somehow still has a grasp of Bob’s presence. Matt’s departure might be a blur of confusion and anger, but what he remembered so clearly was Bob. And wanting Bob to be with them, be in his band.

But maybe it wasn’t that weird that he never checked on Bob.

He spent the rest of the day in his bunk, curled in on himself because he doesn’t want to wake up and learn that the glimpse of colour he finally saw last night was something he imagined. That would suck so much. And he’d been so good that day. Had held down his food (and it wasn’t just coffee, too), had but a few cigarettes, he’s practically angelic. And he didn’t want to get up and realized his grey world’s unsalvageable and ruin a perfectly nice, sober day.

When they finally reached Philly, Gerard was still okay with that. But after sound checks and hours of lying around not avoiding Bob (just usual concert preparation. really), as the show finally started Gerard was vibrating with nerves. He kept his gaze forward, even when Mikey stared a hole onto the side of his head, wanting to know what the hell is up with his brother.

That night, the crowd was anonymous and indistinguishable as always. Grey faces melting into one contorted image that made Gerard wanted to puke. When he staggered forward until he was on his knees, it wasn’t purely because he was acting the words out. He almost didn’t want to stand up ever again.

That was when he felt the thrumming. Firm, solid beats, steadier than his heart running through his bones and he almost gasp out loud when he felt it. He should’ve known. He was always more real than anything Gerard could count on.

He forced his weight on weak knees as he stood up and turned around for the first time since a very long time, facing Bob. The drummer was suspended on a raised platform, like he always was, and everywhere around him, Gerard saw colours.

The redness on his drum kit, pale slivers of wood as his sticks flew around wildly, the spotlight on him, painting his hair blue. Everything was iridescent and _not_ grey. Gerard felt he could cry seeing it. He let out a shaky breath instead.

By then everybody had realized that the vocalist of the band wasn’t really singing anymore, but was standing almost helplessly, his back to the audience. Bob noticed the stillness in the air and looked up to see Gerard standing there. He blinked a few times, and then a smile was on his lips. The same amusement, like there’s nothing in the world Gerard could do to make him mad. And his eyes were still sky blue.

Tentatively, Gerard smiled back. Bob stopped his drumming, held Gerard’s gaze as he counted them all back from one.

And then they started again.

**stop.**  



End file.
